The Through-line

Outrageously

Stupendously

Stupid

Perhaps a nap is needed

Predictably dull

And dated

Not loved

And hardly hated

Not worth being debated

No controversy

Or philosophy

No ism’s

And no isnt’s

It's nonsense

A struggle

Probably

Not that loveable

Don’t listen

Don’t read

This is not what you need

It’s incredibly naive

You see

I believe

And that’s all it takes

To be called naive

In this world today

Swirly spinning world

It's absurd

And a world is made

With just the written word

It’s preposterous

It’s monstrous

It’s the through-line

That goes

Through the mind

And all of space and time

All of stories

All of understanding

It’s the skeleton key

And everything that means

It’s the golden joint

Smoked at heavens gates

As the trap door opens

And you’re left hoping

Things had been a little different

With your time alive

It’s vague and played

This play on this stage

It’s a shitty remodel

Without actors and actresses

That look like models

It’s bottom shelf

How the lowest of us felt

It's the melting pot

A hot spot

For things it claims it’s not

And it boils over

Through the streets

And in the eyes

Of the citizens of this Candy Land

A mad man

Going mad, man

It’s a river flowing

A tree growing

A poem without knowing

Where it’ll go

A runaway train

From the brain

Of an overworked

And underqualified

American manchild

Who will never be taken seriously

Even if he fights furiously

To move the world an inch

Another recycled line

Now that’s a bitch

To think

This all started

With a blonde

I call a witch

Oh boy

How things have switched

The words on the page are the same

But the motivation behind them has changed

Now just

A runaway train.

-C.H.